


Before We Get Lost

by bigficenergy



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Communication, Emotional Baggage, Jam Basket Exchange, Kink Negotiation, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Making Up, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:55:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21601801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigficenergy/pseuds/bigficenergy
Summary: It takes more than some gifts and a song to really patch things up after their week apart, but with the risk of vulnerability comes reward.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 66
Kudos: 407





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cinnaluminum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnaluminum/gifts).



> Oh boy. This got away from me just a little bit.
> 
> Thank you for such a delicious basket, cinnaluminum! I really hope you enjoy this.
> 
> (Tags are fairly broad, quite a bit happens, especially in chapter 4.)
> 
> Title from ["Talk" by Khalid](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hE2Ira-Cwxo). ❤️

David's olive branch offering is a blur. 

As Tina fades out, David silently thanks her for guiding him through the most ridiculous dancing he's taken part in since his performance art days, and then it's just him and Patrick there, in the middle of their store. One excruciatingly long pause later, the first thing out of Patrick’s mouth is a question.

“Can I kiss you?”

David can’t bear to dwell on how tentative his voice is, so he surges up from the floor, taking Patrick’s face in his hands and kissing him like he's been starving for it. Patrick stands and walks them back into the stockroom, never breaking the kiss for longer than absolutely necessary. Neither of them care that passersby are witnessing their reconciliation, and can probably guess what they’re doing once they disappear behind the curtain.

The make-up sex is frantic and inelegant, just half-undressed bodies pressed together, hands grabbing and pulling at each other, gasping into each other’s mouths, as if it had been months rather than a week. By the time they’re finished, word is already getting around that they’re back together, and Patrick receives a text from Ray saying he'll be out late, punctuated with far too many winking emojis.

They get a quick dinner, which David does pay for, and then they go back to Patrick's where they collapse into bed together, too drained to do anything more than curl around each other and pass out.

It will take David nearly a day to realize that something is still off.

\---

In the morning, David wakes up to Patrick nuzzling at his neck, kissing along his jawline, and petting at his chest and stomach. Despite the early hour and their collective morning breath, David turns his head to kiss him. Too soon, Patrick is pulling away, throwing back the covers, and moving to settle between David’s legs. Already hard from all of Patrick’s attention, David eagerly lifts his hips so Patrick can pull off his underwear and take him in his mouth.

Coming off the best night’s sleep he’s had in a week, David is so relaxed, and Patrick is taking such good care of him, it's easy to give himself over to the pleasure. He remembers at the last moment to pull the corner of his pillow over his mouth as he comes with a long, muffled groan. Patrick swallows him down, then rests his head on David's thigh to catch his breath. Eager to get his hands on Patrick as best he can in his groggy state, David hauls him up so he can kiss him and taste himself on Patrick's tongue. To his surprise, Patrick just kisses him on the cheek and climbs off the bed.

“I’ll open so you can get a little more sleep,” Patrick says.

“But…” is all David can manage, eyes on the obvious, neglected erection tenting Patrick’s pajama pants.

“I’m gonna go shower. It’s okay, go back to sleep.”

And then he's gone. David frowns in confusion for a moment before drowsiness wins out and he dozes off again.

\---

David has every intention of making it up to Patrick that night. They close up, and as Patrick is standing after putting the cash box in the safe, David corners him.

“So this morning,” he says, fingers walking up Patrick’s chest to the collar of his shirt. “That was  _ very _ nice. I know it was only a week, but…” He leans in close and whispers, “I really missed your mouth.”

Patrick gives him an irresistible little smile, his gaze dropping to David's lips.

“I’m so glad to hear that, because my mouth missed certain parts of you.”

What David should do is give him shit, ask what exactly “certain parts” means. But in the time it takes his brain to catch up, Patrick’s hands are already going to the fly of David's pants, unfastening them as he walks him back to the sofa that they’d purchased “for breaks”.

With surprising deftness, Patrick gets David’s pants and underwear down to his knees before pushing him to sit. He pulls his pants further down to his ankles and pushes his knees apart so he can get between them, using a hand to guide David's cock into his mouth.

What Patrick lacks in experience, he always makes up for with enthusiasm and determination. There isn't much David can do but hang on, but he tries to make it good for Patrick too, raking his fingernails gently through the hair at the back of Patrick's head, telling him how good he is, how good he makes him feel. It must work, because the hand Patrick had braced on David's thigh disappears, and David hears the soft clink of Patrick undoing his own belt. He looks down and can tell that Patrick has worked his hand into his jeans so he can touch himself, all while continuing to suck David off.

David tries to get the words out to halt him so that he can be the one to get Patrick off, but Patrick has other plans. He moves the hand he had wrapped around the base of David's cock so he can take him deeper, down his throat. David's brain shorts out when he feels Patrick’s nose brush against him, and then when Patrick's whole body jerks with the effort to keep him down, David gasps sharply and comes, hard and sudden. Patrick holds on valiantly through it, then pulls off, coughing and panting raggedly.

“Get up here, right now,” David says as commandingly as he can manage.

“I uh…”

David looks down and bites his lip at the sight of Patrick on his knees, one hand braced on David’s knee, the other still in his pants, no longer moving. His eyes are averted, and his shoulders rise and fall as his breathing evens out. He’s definitely made himself come in his pants, which is simultaneously hot and frustrating.

“Dammit I…” David groans. “That was so… but I wanted to do that… for you.”

“I, um… I couldn’t wait.”

That would have only made things hotter, except David catches a hint of embarrassment in his voice, and he realizes that Patrick still won’t look at him. So he stands, pulls his pants up, and finds a tissue box on a nearby shelf. He takes it with him, kneeling next to Patrick.

“It’s okay. Here.” David gets him to turn toward him and helps him clean up. “Next time, though,” he says, leaning in to whisper right into Patrick’s ear, “you’re gonna wait for me. Okay?”

Patrick takes a shaky breath and nods. Then, he clears his throat.

“Um, thank you, I’m good.”

He stands, and David watches for a moment while he refastens his jeans and buckles his belt, before standing as well, and throwing the tissues away.

“Do you maybe want me to come over again tonight?” David asks tentatively.

“There’s a, uh… Jays game on tonight. Ray and I were gonna watch so…”

“Right.”

“Don’t you have dinner with your family tonight? We should both get going.”

When they’re both presentable, they leave together. Before going their separate ways, Patrick kisses David goodbye with a little more heat than is absolutely appropriate for outside their place of business, in full view of Cafe goers. It’s reassuring, and then confusing when Patrick pulls away, bidding him a brusque goodbye. Something is definitely up, and it’s looking like David is going to need to be the one to do something about it.


	2. Chapter 2

For most of the next day, Patrick is absorbed in spreadsheets and invoices, so he doesn’t seem to notice David being abnormally quiet. The hours pass as they ordinarily would and before David knows it, they’re locking up. He knows he should say something.

“So um…” he starts, leaning in the entryway to the stockroom. “How is everything with you?”

Patrick eyes him curiously. “You know. Significantly better than a week ago.”

David nods. “So nothing is still bothering you?”

Patrick steps into the doorway and closes in on David, wrapping his arms around his waist.

“I mean, I guess the fact that I have to wait all day before I get to do this bothers me,” he says, leaning in to kiss David.

“Mm, right, it’s just that _ahh_ -” David breaks the kiss in order to speak, but Patrick just moves on to kissing the sensitive spot below David’s jaw, scraping his teeth over his stubble. “I feel like… I’ve been noticing… an imbalance…” he continues breathlessly. “Patrick, can you- it’s just I’m trying to…”

When Patrick slides his hands up under David’s sweater, David knows he has to do something before he’s done in.

“Patrick, _wait_.”

David takes him by the wrists and reluctantly removes his hands from where they’re pressed against his body. He means to be gentle, but because the entryway is small, David overestimates how much room he has and ends up pushing Patrick into the other side of the door frame with a soft thud. Patrick looks up at him wide-eyed and surprised, and David lets go of his wrists immediately.

“I’m so sorry,” David says frantically. “I just… I need you to stop and listen for a second. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” Patrick says, a rushed exhale. It’s then that David realizes the look Patrick is giving him might be confused-and-turned-on rather than confused-and-hurt. It’s a relief, and potentially interesting, but he needs to focus.

“Okay,” David says carefully. “I need to know if something is going on. I’m starting to feel like when we’re… connecting, you don’t want me to return the favor. Which is fine, if that’s what you want, I just… I want to make sure it’s what _you_ want and not what you think _I_ want or something.”

He’s grimacing hard by the end of this. Patrick looks down and then turns and walks into the stockroom. David follows him, keeping some space between them.

“This is me,” Patrick says, turning back to David with his hands on his hips. “It’s just me getting in my head. Is there any way we can just… I can try harder to…”

Patrick sighs and covers his face with his hands. David closes the space between them and wraps his arms around Patrick.

“Oh, honey,” David soothes, rubbing his back. “It’s gonna be okay, but… I think we have to talk about it for it to be okay.”

Patrick presses into David’s hold briefly, nods and then pulls away.

“You’re right. I know you’re right.” He takes a deep breath and looks away. “I’m not good at this, David.”

“Unfortunately, neither am I. But um, I don’t have another song and dance in me, so we’re going to have to figure this out.”

Patrick looks about as distressed as David has ever seen him, so he looks around the room for something, anything to make this easier, and his eyes land on the couch.

“Here, come here.”

David sits with his back against an armrest, one leg extended on the sofa, the other hanging off. He encourages Patrick to sit between his open legs, his back to David’s chest. Patrick doesn’t lean back all the way, but when David rubs his shoulders he sighs and rolls his neck, trying to relax. David presses a kiss behind his ear and waits. Eventually, Patrick speaks.

“When I moved here, I convinced myself I had a clean slate. No failed engagement, no disappointed friends and family, no questions that needed answers. And then you, the store, us… I started filling in the blanks. I liked who I was becoming as long as I didn’t think about who I was. And then Rachel coming here, and losing you… I fell back into what I’d always done. When I didn’t know how to fix things with Rachel, I’d buy little gifts, flowers, focus on, you know… giving. It was a bandaid to begin with, and then I felt like I couldn’t accept anything in return, which just caused more problems. I’d look at her and just… it had to me. I didn’t deserve-”

Patrick’s hands are clasped together and he’s rubbing anxiously at one thumb with the other, so David wraps his hands in his own to still them, resting his chin on Patrick’s shoulder.

“I know the feeling.”

Patrick shakes his head. “It’s not the same. Just because people in your past weren’t good to you, doesn’t mean you don’t deserve better.”

“And just because you spent a long time working at the wrong thing, doesn’t mean you don’t deserve the things that feel right to you now.” He sighs against Patrick’s shoulder. “At the end of the day, I think… our problem isn’t our pasts, it’s that we didn’t talk about it. I don’t think either of us is used to having to be so honest with another person, but what we… what we’re trying to do here… requires it. And now we know that.”

There’s a moment’s pause, and then Patrick shifts so he can lay back against David, letting some tension go at last.

“Where do you get off being so wise?” he asks, and David can hear the smile in his voice.

“Well one of us needed to be, and clearly you were in no state for it,” David says, smiling when he feels Patrick laugh. "You can call the meeting next time."

“You're already anticipating a next time?”

“Us being us, I'm sure there will be. I can't promise perfectly smooth sailing and neither can you. But I'm going to try my best not to push you away. Even if that tends to be my prevailing instinct.”

“And I don't want to give you anymore reasons to want to push me away to begin with.”

“Good,” David says, giving him a squeeze and splaying one hand on Patrick's belly. “And don’t, you know, push me away either. It’s very nice that you’re so generous, but remember that _I_ can be a generous person too.”

Patrick hums in amused agreement. “Okay, David.”

They fall silent, but it's comfortable, a great deal of the tension David had been feeling now alleviated. He rubs his thumb absently where it rests on one of the buttons of Patrick's shirt. Then, with purpose, he drags his hand up his chest, the tip of his thumb tracing up beneath the placket of his shirt. Patrick shifts, pressing back a little harder into David's body.

“Anything else you wanna get off your chest?” David asks.

“Feels like you wanna get something off it,” Patrick quips back.

“Only if you want,” David says, toying with Patrick’s top button. “That’s part of the reason we’re here, right? I want you to tell me what you want.”

“Keep going?” Patrick asks, and David unbuttons the top button. Patrick squirms some more and David keeps undoing buttons, plucking at them to minimize contact. He’s undone three when Patrick arches into him restlessly.

“Touch me, please.”

David undoes one more button and slides his hand inside, skin on skin at last. One of Patrick’s hands comes up to cover his, and David stops him with his free hand.

“Can we try something?” David asks, moving Patrick’s hand to his own thigh. “Hands to yourself. Let me do this for you.”

David lets go and Patrick keeps his hand where it’s been placed, flexing the other restlessly where it rests on the back of the couch.

“I don’t want you to feel like you owe me,” he says quietly.

“Oh I don’t,” David assures him, sliding the hand inside his shirt up to cover one of his pecs. “This is mostly a selfish endeavor. And I know you’ve already given me so many gifts, but…”

David circles one of Patrick’s nipples with a fingertip and then rubs it, gentle but direct, making Patrick hiss.

“...can I have this? Just one more thing? Will you let me make you feel good?”

“Uh-huh.” The affirmation tumbles out from somewhere deep in Patrick's chest. “Please, David.”

David unbuttons Patrick's shirt the rest of the way, pulling free from the waist of his jeans. He runs his hand back up from Patrick's stomach to his neck, wrapping it loosely around his throat and tilting his head back so he can lean down and kiss him. When Patrick’s hand leaves the back of the couch and reaches up to cradle the back of David’s head, David breaks the kiss, taking Patrick’s wrist and pinning it back to the couch.

“I don’t think you understood the assignment,” David chides.

“I understood,” Patrick says, a little breathless but adamant. He tips his head back to look at David, his eyes asking if _David_ understands what _he’s_ saying.

David takes a shaky breath, because he does get it. He’s still not used to being this in sync with another person, and he hadn’t expected it all to fall so easily back into place once they were back together. The fact that David has proposed a game and Patrick is already bypassing following the rules in favor of breaking them because he _wants_ to, because he _likes_ it is… really fucking fun, if David is being honest. But they’re not quite ready for that.

“Okay,” David breathes, letting go of Patrick’s wrist. “So I don’t feel comfortable continuing to… restrain you like that. Not before we’ve talked some stuff out.”

Patrick looks like he’s going to argue, but David continues before he can.

“So what I’m going to do instead,” he says, sliding a hand down to cup Patrick over his pants, relishing the small, choked sound it draws out of him, “is I’m going to touch you as long as you can keep your hands to yourself. If you touch me, I’ll stop, for as long as I see fit.” He rubs Patrick through his jeans, making him moan, and kisses his temple before adding, “I don’t care how close you are. I’ll make you wait.”

“I’ll be good,” Patrick gasps, and David has to squeeze his eyes shut and bite his lip because Patrick doesn’t seem to realize how _very good_ he’s already being. He decides not to drag this part out and unbuckles Patrick’s belt, undoes his jeans, and tugs them down with his underwear. Patrick lifts up as best he can while making sure he keeps his hands to himself. David immediately wraps his hand around Patrick’s dick, making him groan.

“Missed this,” David sighs.

Patrick lets out a breathy laugh. “We had sex the second we officially made up.”

“Yeah but I didn’t get to _really_ appreciate… certain parts of you.”

David’s touch is light as he strokes Patrick a few times, but it’s enough to make him squirm, his hand leaving his own thigh and groping for David’s.

“Ah ah ah,” David admonishes gently, letting go of him.

“Sorry, I know, sorry.” Instead of putting his hand back where it was, Patrick slides it up his own chest, beneath his open shirt.

“Actually yeah, that’s good, keep doing that,” David says.

“Just making this up as you go?” Patrick teases.

“Maybe I am. But if you keep mouthing off, your own hand is all you’re gonna get.”

Patrick gives a little “hmph” but says nothing more. David gives it another moment before licking his hand and returning to stroking Patrick. Patrick sighs and David is pretty sure he’s playing with his nipple under his shirt.

David doesn’t want to stop, but he should if he wants to make this good for Patrick. So he pauses, leaning over the side of the couch and dragging out the little box they stashed beneath it a while back, flipping it open and pulling out some lube. They resituate themselves and David gets some lube on his hand before touching Patrick again. This time, Patrick moans aloud, thrusting up into David tight, slick grip.

“Easy,” David murmurs. “I’ve got you.”

It takes some effort and a few deep breaths, but then Patrick is relaxing, melting into David’s hold, letting himself feel David’s touch. When Patrick’s head lolls back and the sounds he’s making go from strained to deep and drawn out, David shivers, murmuring words of encouragement in Patrick’s ear.

Once more, David’s plan to draw things out is overcome by his desire to take Patrick apart. It’s only when Patrick starts getting really loud that David stops jerking him off, settling his hand at the base of his dick and squeezing. Patrick whines in protest.

“You know I enjoy hearing you,” David says, his voice low, “but half the town is headed to dinner at the Cafe right about now, right outside. You might want to keep it down, just a little.”

“Make me,” Patrick says, breathy and dazed.

David huffs. It's not the response he'd expected. 

“You should be careful what you wish for.”

“I’m serious,” Patrick says. He’s gone tense again, trying not to move his hips. “I can’t- I don’t wanna hold back. Do what you have to do.”

David only hesitates for a second before beginning to stroke Patrick again, working him back up to the edge. This time when he’s close, Patrick doesn’t just get loud - he starts saying David’s name a lot too. Which, if David is right about people passing close by outside, simply won’t do.

“David,” Patrick is gasping. “David, David, _David_ , I’m c-”

David cuts him off, covering Patrick’s mouth with his free hand, firmly, but mindful of his rings. Patrick cries out, his voice muffled by David’s palm, thrusting up and coming over David’s fist. David rides it out with him, reveling in the vibration of Patrick’s voice through one hand and the satisfying mess on his other. When Patrick heaves a big sigh and sags bonelessly back against him, he removes his hand from his mouth. The sound of their breathing is too loud in the quiet of the room, so David clears his throat to speak.

“Was that-?”

Suddenly Patrick slips out of his grip and turns so he's leaning over David, a hand going straight to the fly of his pants.

“No,” David says, and Patrick freezes. “Go clean yourself up first. It's okay, I'm not going anywhere.”

Patrick looks a little apprehensive but stands and finds the tissue box. He hands David some tissue too and they tidy up, Patrick glancing at David, unsure of what to do next. As Patrick refastens his jeans, David pulls off his sweater and undershirt and opens his own pants, finally releasing his own erection from its confines. Before he has the time to feel too self-conscious, he finds the lube again and uses some to start jerking himself off slowly, watching Patrick stand there with his shirt still open, waiting.

“Come back here,” David finally says with a lazy half grin.

Patrick climbs back on top of him, one hand braced on the couch, the other settling safely on David’s shoulder.

“You can touch me, but only above the waist,” David says, voice wavering as his cock leaks in his hand, with Patrick looming over him, waiting for instruction. “And if you could kiss me like _right now_ that would be-”

Patrick takes David’s face in both hands so he can kiss him fervidly. David moans into it and Patrick licks into his mouth, his thumbs stroking appreciatively over the stubble along David’s jaw. _This feels right_ , David thinks with the last bit of his brain that hasn't totally melted. Something has clicked back into place. Patrick is with him again.

Regrettably, David has to pull out of the kiss to catch his breath, but he keeps stroking himself, so close to coming already. Patrick kisses down his neck, across his collarbone, and then lower, his tongue dragging wet and firm over one of David’s nipples. David’s other hand goes to the back of Patrick’s head, holding him there. Patrick bites down very gently then sucks hard, and it’s only another second or two before David gasps and keens, toes curling as he comes.

“ _Fuck_ ,” David pants, head thrown back and smiling, trying desperately to fight the giggles bubbling up in his throat. Patrick lifts his head and he’s grinning too. After the hard time David had given Patrick, David had been _much_ louder than him.

Patrick’s hand cradles the back of David’s head and he tilts him back up so he can kiss him, slower than before, but every bit as ardent, until David is smiling too widely to continue. Patrick kisses his cheek, then retrieves the tissues, cleaning David up like David had done for him the other day. When he’s done, he tosses the tissues away to deal with later, and just looks at David, brushing strands of his very slightly tousled coif back into place.

“What?” David asks, self-conscious like he was the day he went back to Ray's to get new forms from Patrick, when Patrick had smiled at him, amused but kind.

“You have the most beautiful smile,” Patrick says, and part of David wishes he hadn't asked, because it’s too much, and he has no idea how to respond. Luckily - or unfortunately, David can’t decide - Patrick keeps talking.

“I had all sorts of thoughts to torture myself with this past week. One of them was that I never really said how much I like your smile.”

Instinctively, David tries to rein in his grin, and Patrick laughs.

“In all its forms,” he adds. “But the times when you really just… I was so scared I’d never see you smile like that again. Or I’d stay on with the store and I’d see someone else be the one to-”

“Shh, none of that,” David says, shaking his head. “You’ll have plenty of opportunities to get this goofy smile out of me.”

“It’s not goofy, it’s-”

David kisses him, unable to take anymore praise, and Patrick smiles his own beautiful smile against his lips.

\---

Alexis is expected to be out late with Twyla that evening, so Patrick goes to David’s after dinner. They put a movie on on the laptop and lounge on David’s tiny twin bed, fitting on it only because David is snuggled up so close, his head on Patrick’s chest. David’s not sure how invested Patrick is in the movie, but his own mind is elsewhere.

“You like being told what to do,” David eventually says.

“Not generally,” Patrick replies, eyes still on the screen.

“I don’t mean generally.”

Patrick reaches over to the laptop and pauses the move. David tips his head back to look up at Patrick.

“You also seem to like being held down,” David adds. “Or you like the idea of it, anyway.”

Patrick takes a breath. “I didn’t know I was gonna react that way. I’ve never… these aren’t things I’ve thought to try.”

“Would you like to continue this exploration?”

“I’m guessing we’d have to talk about it?”

“That is correct.”

“Okay,” Patrick says, running his fingers up through the short hair at the back of David’s head, massaging gently with his fingertips. “But not right this second. I wanna watch the movie.”

“Mkay, but only because you doing that is gonna put me to sleep,” David says, yawning and nuzzling back into Patrick as his fingers continue stroking his hair. “This really isn’t the Drew Barrymore vehicle I would’ve picked.”

“You wouldn’t have picked the baseball rom-com? I’m shocked,” Patrick teases gently, resuming the movie.

“Baseball’s not the problem,” David sighs. “Jimmy Fallon is.”

“Well we can’t just keep watching _The Wedding Singer_. I figure if we watch enough of her movies, we’ll find another one we overlap on.”

David means to insist that they watch _Never Been Kissed_ next time, but he’s fading fast, drifting to sleep in his boyfriend’s arms, everything as it should be.


	3. Chapter 3

“I’m not into nicknames,” David says the next day, during a lull at the store. He’s holding a cup of coffee from the Cafe in both hands, resting his chin on the lid as he watches Patrick move around the sales floor with a clipboard.

“I hate to break it to you, David, but you’ve been calling me ‘honey’ for weeks now,” Patrick says, without looking up from his stocklist. “I hadn’t said anything because I was afraid you’d stop.”

“That’s very cute of you, but I meant, like, _in-bed_ nicknames.”

Patrick looks up. “Do I strike you as the type to pull a nickname out in bed?”

“You’d be surprised the things that are said in the heat of the moment,” David says, gesturing with his cup for emphasis. “ _You’ve_ said some surprising things on occasion.”

“Yeah, but I’ve never called you anything like…”

Patrick trails off and David grins.

“Oh _please_ finish that sentence."

“See, I can’t even think of anything, so it’s probably not gonna come up. Anyway, what is this about?”

“I just think if we’re going to be dipping our toes into the kind of play, we should establish our yeses and nos ahead of time. I generally like the conversational approach, but I realize that lists and charts and spreadsheets get you going, so I could draft a shared document if you’d prefer.”

David tries and fails to hide his grin behind his coffee cup as Patrick rolls his eyes and heads past him toward the stockroom. He stops in the entryway.

“This is fine. And don’t worry, David. I promise that even in the heat of the moment, I won’t call you ‘daddy’.”

Patrick turns away, leaving David to choke on his coffee and wonder where the _hell_ he got _that_ from.

\---

In the middle of the week, a spunky, prospective vendor named Ash pays the store a visit. David had briefly met Ash at a flea market and grabbed a business card from them. Based on that card and the very DIY website it advertised, Patrick had assumed David would see their wares as not “on-brand” for the store. But David had a hunch, and apparently that was enough to convince Ash to drive in from Elm Ridge with a sampling of their products.

The products in question were lovingly crafted leather goods, and Ash’s need of a graphic designer didn’t change the fact that their wallets and several other accessories would likely do well in the store. It’s a good meeting, smiles all around, and David even lets Ash use their less-than-guest-friendly restroom with little protest, since they have a lengthy drive back. While Ash is in the bathroom, David and Patrick continue to look at the items they’d brought to show them.

“Not those,” David says when Patrick picks up a wide cuff bracelet with a buckle closure. “The thin, snap ones are good, but those ones are a little too much like… something I used to have.”

“You used to wear jewelry like this?” Patrick asks, always intrigued by any partial image of David’s past self that he lets slip.

“Jewelry isn’t quite the right word. They were more like… an activity-based accessory.”

Patrick stares at the bracelet for a moment, then nods. “You mean handcuffs.”

“Yeah,” David says softly, suddenly very interested in the leather key fobs.

“Is that something you’re still into?”

“Potentially, I guess.” David looks up at Patrick. “What about you? You seem to have an interest in… restraint.”

Patrick turns the bracelet over in his hands and tries to respond a few times, but can’t seem to decide on what to say. David moves closer to him.

“It’s okay if you’re not interested.”

“I know,” Patrick says, putting the bracelet down. “I think the appeal in… that… is that it’s you doing it. To me. Your hands. You know?”

“Mmm, well, I appreciate that very much,” David says. “So no extra stuff. But you know, if anything changes...”

“Yeah, I know, I’ll let you know,” Patrick says bashfully.

David smiles and leans in toward him, but steps back when the bathroom door opens and Ash returns.

“Thanks guys,” they say, gathering up their samples. “I’ve got a thing to get to, so I wanna try to make the drive back in one shot.”

“So sorry to make you come all the way out here,” David says.

“Oh no, I was happy to,” Ash says. “I get it, you _are_ the brand, it’s important to maintain. I’m glad you see a place for some of my pieces here. And, you know, I always prefer to work within the community.”

David squeezes Patrick’s shoulder and they smile at each other. They’d also been talking about trying to bring on more queer artists and makers. Ash was a great find.

“You can expect an order from us by early next week,” Patrick says.

“Rad,” Ash says with a grin. They hesitate for a moment and clear their throat. “Um, before I go, I just, um… I promise I wasn’t trying to listen in, but the sound just carries in this building…”

David’s eyebrows raise warily and he feels Patrick tense next to him.

“Anyway, I run a secondary business, so if you ever do find yourself in the market for…”

Ash pulls out a business card and holds it out to whichever of them chooses to accept. It ends up being Patrick. The card uses the same font as Ash’s other one, but the product photos are… different. One side features a leather collar with an o-ring, displayed on a model’s neck, and the other side shows wrists adorned with leather cuffs, sturdier than the bracelets they’d looked at today, but similar in style.

“...well, you get the picture,” Ash says. “Again, I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but I’d be happy to provide a discount.”

“That is… very generous,” David says, as evenly as he can manage. “We’ll definitely let you know.”

They bid Ash farewell and after they’ve left, Patrick is still looking at the card.

“You okay?” David asks, tentatively.

“Yeah, uh-huh,” Patrick says, slipping the business card into his pocket and straightening the products on the table in front of him. David bites back a smile.

“You wanna look at their site don’t you,” David says knowingly. “Check out the side biz?”

Patrick bites his lip, then looks up at David. “Just to look.”

A customer walks in and David sighs. “Why don’t you take a ten and take a peek. Let me know if you see anything interesting.”

“Just a peek,” Patrick says, already heading to the back and pulling out his phone and the card. “I’m still not-”

“Purely for research. Educational purposes only,” David calls back, grinning before turning to assist the customer.

\---

“Whatcha thinking about so hard?”

David isn’t feeling adventurous tonight, so he’d decided on a cobb salad without opening one of the Cafe’s giant menus. Patrick, on the other hand, has been staring at his open menu for some time. His eyes haven’t moved from the same spot on the same page, so he’s either really torn between the pork chop and the chicken piccata, or…”

“Do I need a safeword?”

 _Patrick_ is feeling adventurous, apparently.

David presses his lips together and peeks over his shoulder, scanning the room. They’re in the booth furthest back in the Cafe, and the other patrons seem absorbed in their own conversations. He turns back to Patrick.

“Might be a good idea,” David says quietly. “But we’re definitely not going to be getting into anything where I would take ‘stop’ to mean anything other than ‘stop’.” He opens his menu, hoping to buy them a few more minutes before Twyla comes to see if they’re ready to order. “What about traffic lights?”

“Red means stop, green means go?”

“Exactly.”

Patrick tilts his head, eyes still on his menu. “Seems simple enough.”

David leans forward. “Wanna practice?”

At last, Patrick looks up, arching an eyebrow. David smiles, sliding his foot over to Patrick’s, raising it to press against the inside of his ankle. Patrick keeps his eyes on David’s.

“Green?”

“Are you asking me?” David asks, lessening the pressure on his ankle.

“Green,” Patrick says, and David presses his foot into him again, sliding it up higher.

Leaning back, Patrick looks around the Cafe to make sure no one is watching as David’s foot reaches his knee. Patrick gives him a look that’s a little warning, a little challenging. David knocks his legs open, and Patrick’s hand falls to his ankle to stop him.

“Yellow…”

David stops, waits. Patrick looks like he’s going to say something else, but then something makes him stop and push David’s foot away. A second later, Twyla appears from behind David to take their orders. David orders a side of fries with his salad, and Patrick settles on the chicken. When they’re alone again, David nudges Patrick’s foot with his.

“So does that seem reasonable?”

“Fries with a salad? I guess it’s not _un_ reasonable…”

David tilts his head back and squeezes his eyes shut in frustration and Patrick laughs.

“Yes David, the traffic lights are good.”

David leans forward, resting his chin in his hand, his elbow on the table.

“Is there anything else we should talk about? Likes, dislikes?”

“We probably shouldn't continue this conversation here,” Patrick whispers.

David leans back again with a sigh. “I suppose not.”

They change the subject. Eventually, Twyla returns with their food. David puts his napkin on his lap and is lifting a fry to his mouth when Patrick pulls them back into the earlier discussion.

“I liked when you made me wait.”

David freezes for a moment, then closes his mouth and sets the fry back on his plate, giving Patrick his full attention. Patrick looks around to make sure no one is paying attention to them before he continues.

“You know before… you… a lot of the time I felt like I had to rush. Sometimes I’d get in my head… for reasons that are clearer now… but then, I’d take too long and feel like I needed to… take matters into my own hands, for lack of a better phrase. It was the quickest way to move things along. It’s nice to be able to just let things happen now. And it was nice to draw it out too.” He pauses and fiddles with his cutlery. “I’ve been thinking about that a lot. Doing that again. Maybe… making it last even longer.”

David’s been nodding since the word “again”.

“We can certainly explore that.”

Patrick looks away and nods, busying himself with his dinner. When he looks up, David is eating a fry, his eyes still on him.

“Stop looking at me like that,” says Patrick.

“Like what?”

“Like _I’m_ your dinner.”

David’s mouth drops open, but that’s probably a fair assessment. He’d very much like to devour Patrick, sooner rather than later.

“Any chance Ray has plans tomorrow night?”

Patrick shakes his head. “He’s been especially busy lately, and he’s having a ‘self-care’ night at home tomorrow that he’s very much looking forward to.”

"Difficult to be mad about that." David sighs, thinking for a moment. "Okay. Let me see if I can get us some privacy tomorrow night."

"Can you make it to tomorrow night?"

"Can _you_?"

Patrick just smiles and takes a fry from David's plate. David gasps, scandalized.

"Red!"

Patrick freezes obediently, the fry not quite to his lips. David knows the look he's giving Patrick must be wolfish.

Ultimately, he lets him eat the fry.


	4. Chapter 4

“I need the room furthest from mine for tonight,” David says, marching into the motel office.

From her perch behind the desk, Stevie looks up from her book.

“Is there something wrong with your room?”

“I mean, where to begin?” David says wryly. “But mainly it’s that I share it with my sister and my parents are right next door, and I need a private room for the night. I'll pay.”

“ _That_ was never in question. But we reserve the right to refuse service to anyone, and if I suspect questionable use of our rooms-”

“Okay, you _know_ it's for me and Patrick, so can we just skip to the part where you support me and my relationship?”

“I'm just wondering what can't wait until the next time Ray is out of town. Or what can't be done at the store after hours. Or in the backseat of Patrick’s car.”

“Remind me never to tell you anything ever again. But fine, name your price.”

“A case of wine.”

“I'll give you the usual two bottles and throw in some of the tapenade you like.”

“Fine.” Stevie grabs the key for room one and sets it on the desk.

“Thank you so much,” David says, taking the key. “And can you put us under a pseudonym? I'd really rather not explain this to my dad.”

“Oh, well, my discretion will cost you extra.”

David grits his teeth. “Rosemary crackers for the tapenade.”

Stevie makes a face like she's thinking it over.

“And a cheese of your choice,” David adds, exasperated.

“Wow. Patrick’s not gonna be happy with you giving away that much product. Better make it _very_ good for him tonight.”

“Okay thank you so much, best wishes to you,” David says on his way out the door.

“Warmest regards,” Stevie calls back, turning back to her book.

\---

In the end, David would have paid any price to make this night happen. Patrick follows him into the room and the second he closes the door, he finds himself backed up against it, David dropping his bag in favor of pressing right up against him. Patrick drops his bag too, melting under David's gaze.

“Are we starting now?” Patrick asks, eyes on David's mouth.

“If you're ready,” David replies, and Patrick nods. “Okay then. Hands at your sides, palms against the door. If you touch me, I stop.”

Patrick obeys, and David takes his face in his hands so he can kiss him deep and slow, teasing with his tongue and pulling back so Patrick has to chase him. Patrick leans up into it as much as he can while still keeping his hands where they’ve been relegated. He doesn’t bother to hold out for long, but that’s the game they’re playing. When he lifts his hands to slide up David’s arms, David breaks his hold and pins his wrists to the door on either side of his head.

“Green,” Patrick says, unprompted.

“I appreciate the foresight,” David says with a grin. “From here, you only have to tell me if your color changes, or if I ask you.”

“I know. It was just the fastest way to tell you I’m… really liking this already.”

“Yes, you’re telling me a few ways.” David presses in closer and slots a leg between Patrick’s, rocking his thigh into his growing erection. Patrick gasps and tries to rock back into him, but stops when David tightens his grip on his wrists.

“Remember what we’re focusing on here,” David says, rocking into Patrick again. “You’re going to ask for what you want, and then you’re going to let me give it to you, at my pace. Right?”

“Right.”

“And I know you like a challenge, so you’re also not going to come until I tell you you can. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” Patrick manages before biting off a moan and the friction David is giving him. “I um… feel like I should ask… what happens if I come before you say I can?”

David’s mind goes straight to spanking Patrick’s cute little butt, but spanking had been placed in the “maybe - revisit later” column of the mental spreadsheet David was keeping for them, so that's a no-go for tonight.

“Let's keep it simple for now,” he says. "If you can't follow that rule, you can’t touch me when I’m done with you. You’ll have to watch while I take care of myself.”

It almost feels weird to pose that as a “punishment”, but he knows he's nailed it when Patrick pouts the tiniest bit and says softly, “Okay, David.”

David smiles and leans back in, brushing his lips against Patrick's, but then lets go and steps back.

“Go sit on the bed and undress. Shoes and socks first, then shirt.”

Patrick goes, and David puts their bags away, pulling out the leather toiletry bag that holds the items relevant for the night’s events. When he looks over, Patrick is hastily undoing the buttons of his shirt.

“Slowly,” David instructs, and Patrick takes his time with the rest of the buttons.

He keeps his eyes on David as he untucks his shirt and pulls it off, handing it over so David can drape it over the chair. David takes off his own shoes and leaves his sweater on the chair as well, turning back to Patrick in just a t-shirt and joggers. As Patrick takes off his own t-shirt, David swoops in to take advantage of the newly exposed skin, kneeling in front of Patrick so he can kiss his neck and chest, the scratch of his stubble making Patrick shiver. Once he’s tossed away the t-shirt, Patrick leans back, hands braced behind him on the bed as David kisses down his stomach, his fingers slowly undoing Patrick’s belt and jeans. He pulls them down, placing kisses on his thighs and knees along the way.

Less concerned with wrinkling his jeans than his shirt, he pulls them off and simply tosses them away, pushing Patrick’s legs apart and leaning in to press his face to his crotch. Patrick’s hips twitch up.

“God, David, I want your mouth.”

David drags his tongue over the cotton of his underwear, up his hard length. Patrick whines.

“ _David…_ ”

David grins up at him, swiftly pulling off Patrick’s underwear and taking his cock in his mouth, his own moan nearly drowning out Patrick’s. Teasing Patrick means depriving himself too, so he savors this while he can, taking him deep, drawing up to suck and flick his tongue at the head, groaning at the taste of him.

There’s a soft _thump_ on the mattress. David looks up and realizes it had been the sound of Patrick’s hand smacking the bed. He pulls off, smirking.

“Everything okay?”

Patrick inhales sharply and nods. “I just really want to touch you.”

“Well I’m not gonna make it easier from here, so I suggest you steel yourself.”

Patrick huffs. “Part of myself sure feels _steel_ ed.”

“Okay, you are so not allowed to hang out with Ted anymore.”

“I feel another joke coming on,” Patrick says, grinning. “Better shut me up.”

“I just don’t think I should reward bad behavior, though.”

Patrick pouts and David laughs.

“It’s distressing how cute you are when you do that,” David says, not giving Patrick a chance to respond before taking him back in his mouth. Patrick falls back on his elbows, and then gives up entirely and lays back on the bed, reaching up to drag one of the pillows over his face. He grips it tight, using it to muffle a long, frustrated groan. David laughs again, the sound reverberating in a way that makes Patrick’s hips jerk, before pulling off with a lascivious slurping sound and a kiss to the tip of his dick.

“Don’t do that,” he says, replacing his mouth with his hand and stroking lightly. “If you can’t show, you should tell.”

Patrick removes the pillow from his face, but keeps a tight hold on it.

“Don’t know what to say. Hard to even _think_ when you’re doing that.”

“But that’s good.” David tightens his grip, stroking faster. “Say more things like that.”

“I uh- _fuck, David_ ,” he chokes out and David’s mouth descends on his cock again. “Jesus, your mouth is a _problem._ ”

“Mmm.” David pulls off. “That doesn’t sound as nice.”

“I just mean… god forbid we have a slow day at the store. Gives me time to wonder how long I could get away with kissing you in the back. Thinking about… more discreet places you could mark me up, wishing we had time for-”

David takes Patrick’s cock back in his mouth, sucking firmly.

“ _Ah!_ Yeah, that, that, _yes_ …”

David takes him deeper, into his throat, holding him there until…

“Stop, David, _stop_ , I’m gonna come…”

David pulls off and stands, stretching languorously while he watches Patrick pant on the bed.

“How you doing, honey?”

Patrick takes a deep breath and blows it out. “I’m uh… hey can you…?”

David climbs onto the bed, straddling Patrick’s hips. “What do you need?”

“If I can’t touch you, can I at least see you? Please?”

David smiles, rolling his eyes at his own momentary bashfulness before pulling off his shirt and tossing it over toward the chair. He misses and now his shirt is on the floor, but he can feel Patrick staring, so he lets it go and meets his heavy-lidded, slightly dumbfounded gaze.

“I’ve made a terrible mistake,” Patrick says.

David frowns. “I’m going to need you to provide context before my mind goes to the dark places where that’s been said to me before.”

“The context is that you’re gorgeous, David,” Patrick says, seriously. “And now I just want to touch you more. Why would I do this to myself?”

“Little bit of a masochist, aren't you?” David teases, relaxing back into the moment. He leans down, bringing his face close to Patrick’s, their noses brushing. “So what now? You want my mouth again?”

Patrick bites his lip, but doesn’t say anything.

“No?” David ducks his head to brush a kiss along Patrick’s jaw and murmurs, “You want something else?”

“No. Not something else, but… somewhere else.”

David pulls back to look at him.

“Patrick Brewer. Are you asking me to eat you out?”

Patrick blushes very red, but he nods.

“You want that?” David croons, leaning down again to nip at an earlobe. “Want me to lick you open, get you all wet? You want my tongue all up inside you-?”

“ _Yes_ , David, _please_ , do it,” Patrick begs, one hand twisting in the pillow he’s still holding, the other trying to find purchase in the bedspread.

 _Ask and you shall receive_ , David thinks, but certainly doesn’t say out loud. Instead, he climbs off Patrick and kneels back on the floor, tugging him down so his ass it at the very edge of the bed.

“Hold your- _good_ ,” David says, as Patrick grabs the back of his own thighs so he can hold his legs open and apart before David has even finished the request. David kneads his backside, spreading him open and listening to him whine as he slides his hands up his thighs and back down, teasing, scratching lightly, and kissing the sensitive skin before him. When he’s lulled Patrick into a comfortable haze, he surprises him by latching onto the inside of his thigh, sucking a vicious hickey.

“ _Ffffff- unnghhh_ ,” is the sound that’s pulled from him. David lets go and looks up to see Patrick’s nails digging into his legs, then leans back in to lick soothingly over the bruise he’s made.

“That discreet enough for you?” David asks and Patrick laughs, a high, gasping breath. He doesn’t expect more of an answer than that, so David spreads him open, for real this time, planting a few wet, sucking kisses before delving in with his tongue.

This is one of those things Patrick had never even thought to ask for before David, and had ended up enjoying more than he'd ever expected. David can’t deny the little thrill it gives him to be the first person to do this to Patrick, especially considering the unabashed moans it draws from him, and the way it makes his legs shake. He kind of can’t believe he met this nice, clean cut guy with a business degree and now he’s here with his tongue in his ass. Well, no, that’s not entirely true. He could see that happening in his old life, but it would have been a one-and-done kind of thing. That they are here, over four months later, is what he kind of can’t believe.

He lets out a breath of a chuckle, and Patrick must feel it because he shivers and asks, strained and incredulous, “Are you laughing at me?”

David pulls back, wiping his mouth and straightening up so he can look at Patrick’s flushed face, taking his dick in his hand so that he doesn’t go more than a second without some kind of stimulation.

“I would never,” David says, grinning at Patrick’s valiant effort to lift his head and glare. “I was just thinking that if you’d told me I’d be doing this to that guy I met at Ray’s the day I went to incorporate, I might not have believed it.”

At that, Patrick does lean up on his elbows. “ _You_ wouldn’t have believed it?!”

That’s a fair point, so David concedes by getting back to work, burying his face back between Patrick’s cheeks and continuing to stroke him him at the same time. Patrick collapses back, nearly knocking David over when he bucks up and then presses down against David’s tongue. He gasps a hasty apology that gets lost in a moan. He’s so hard and wet in David’s hand, and David feels pretty close to matching him, still in the confines of his underwear and joggers. Patrick makes a sharp, desperate sound that makes David’s hips jerk forward against nothing.

“ _Fuck_ , stop!” Patrick grits out, and David does immediately, watching as Patrick lets go of his legs in favor of grabbing handfuls of the bedspread and arching his back, his cock twitching and leaking. He doesn't come, but it's a close thing. He stays tense for a long moment, before letting out a frustrated breath and relaxing against the bed again.

“ _Good_ ,” David praises. “That’s so good.” He presses a final kiss to his thigh and stands. “Scoot up and get comfortable. I’ll be right back.”

David dashes to the bathroom to give his mouth a courtesy rinse at the sink. He looks up at his reflection in the mirror to find that a single lock of his hair has strayed from the rest of the coif, so he fixes it instinctively. Part of him wishes he was looking at more of a mess. When Patrick’s hands are in play, David’s hair is always left an absolute wreck. He doesn’t enjoy looking unkempt for any other reason, but he loves how he looks after Patrick’s fingers have been all through his hair, have stroked and tugged and petted. He’ll have to ask Patrick to make up for it next time.

He heads back into the room, catching Patrick just as he’s putting the toiletry bag back on the nightstand.

“Whatcha got there?”

Patrick sinks back against the pillows, but holds up a black, nitrile glove.

“Hmm.” David goes back over to straddle Patrick’s hips once more, plucking the glove from his hand. “What am I supposed to do with this? Make you a funny balloon animal?”

Patrick slides his hands under the pillow beneath his head and makes a lazy attempt at glaring. 

“You know, I think I’m starting to come around to the idea of cuffs. And by that I mean you’re going to _need_ to cuff me at this rate.”

“Oh? Is it getting hard for you to follow my lead? Especially knowing you could turn the tables right now, and I’d probably let you?” David puts the glove on. “It’s like I said, though. You’re a little bit of a masochist, aren’t you?”

Patrick bites his lip. “That’s a bit of a strong word.”

“Is it though?”

Patrick makes an attempt to reach for David, which David thwarts easily by grabbing his wrist with gloved hand, pinning it to the pillow next to his head.

“Okay fine,” Patrick says. “Come on, I want your fingers.”

“Well, be good so I can give them to you.”

Beneath him, Patrick lets the tension in his body ease, but tips his chin up, maybe in eagerness, maybe in a bit of defiance. Either way, David loves it. He moves off of Patrick in favor of a more optimal position between his legs. Patrick has also pulled out the lube and left it on the bed for David’s convenience, so he gets some on one finger and rubs it teasingly around Patrick’s hole before pressing in slowly. Patrick takes a deep breath and relaxes, and David hums in approval.

“Tell me I-”

David looks up and Patrick is biting his lip, like it’s the only thing preventing him from finishing what he was going to say. David knows though.

“You like being told you’re good, don’t you?”

“Don’t… most people?”

David shifts carefully so he can lie next to Patrick while keeping his hand in place.

“But you _really_ like it,” David says into his ear, pressing his finger in deeper. Patrick squirms, his face turned away from David. After a couple of breaths, he turns to look at David, asking without asking.

“You’re so good,” David breathes against Patrick’s lips, and Patrick practically whimpers, clenching around his finger. “Yeah,” David continues. “Yeah, that’s- fuck, you’re being so good. You’re good, Patrick, _we’re_ good, we’re okay-”

What he’s saying doesn’t fully register until after Patrick has leaned in and kissed him hard. It’s just as well, because David feels other words and emotions bubbling up that are too much for the moment. _I missed you, I missed you, we’re going to be okay now._

Somewhat reluctantly, David pulls back so he can comfortably press a second finger into Patrick, who arches into it and just barely stops himself from grabbing at David, gripping hard at the pillow behind his head instead.

“ _David._ ”

“Mhm? Did you want something?” he asks, trying to sound flippant as he presses his fingers in deep.

“Want you in me.”

“I am in you.” He rocks his hand so his fingertips glance over Patrick’s prostate to prove his point

Patrick lets out a sort of whining groan and leans up on his elbows so he can look down at David.

“I want your dick,” he says, even as he rocks down greedily on David’s fingers. “I want you to fuck me, please…”

David stops, stilling Patrick with a hand on his hip. Patrick pants, trying to refocus, gasping when David pulls his fingers out. Because the thing is, they haven’t done that yet. They’d talked about it, and had even come close to doing it, right before their brief separation in fact, but he worries this would be too big of a new thing to introduce tonight, on top of everything else. He pulls the glove off and tosses it away absently.

“David, wha-”

“We don’t have to do that,” David says, his hands clenched and held close to his chest anxiously. “I know we have a certain… _thing_ going on here, but it doesn’t mean we have to do it that way. I don’t want you to feel like you have to-”

Patrick sits up and takes David’s face in his hands.

“David. You said to ask for what I want. This is what I want. We don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I know what I’m asking for.”

“You’re sure?” David asks, brows still pinched in concern.

“I’m sure. Hey.” Patrick pulls his focus back to him when David tries to look away. “What’s _your_ color?”

David’s heart clenches in his chest and he has to blink and roll his eyes to try to hide being moved by the basic courtesy he hasn’t always been afforded. He shakes his head, not wanting to think about the past. Not now.

“Green,” he says. “But only if you are too.”

“Oh I’m green,” Patrick says, smiling. “I’m emerald. I’m forest…”

David rolls his eyes again, now fighting a smile.

“Olive. Um… lime. Chartreuse? That’s a green, right?”

David wrinkles his nose and Patrick laughs, which relaxes David. He leans like he’s going to kiss Patrick, but then takes him by the wrists instead, pushing him to lay back down and pinning his hands.

“Stay there,” he says, and Patrick does. But when David lets go, reaching over to his bag to get another glove, Patrick frowns.

“I’m ready, David.”

“Then just consider this for my benefit. I need to be sure that you’re comfortable,” he says, putting the glove on and getting some lube on his fingers. “Besides, you broke the rule. I’d have to make you wait anyway.”

Any further argument is lost when David presses his fingers back to Patrick’s hole, giving him two right away. Patrick arches his back, takes a deep breath, then relaxes back into it. David is able to add a third finger soon after, and despite the extra stretch, it doesn’t take long for Patrick to get restless, rocking down on David’s fingers. He’s starting to put on a show, squeezing around him and making downright lewd sounds, until David can’t hold out anymore.

“Fuck, okay, okay,” he mutters, pulling his fingers out and discarding the second glove in the general vicinity of the first one. This time when he goes to his bag, he retrieves a condom.

Patrick watches every movement: David finally getting the rest of his clothes off, the way he shivers when he gets his hand on himself for the first time all night, getting the condom on, the lube, encouraging him to bend his knees. When they’re all situated, David looks up at him.

“You’re not actually a lime or chartreuse, are you?” he asks. “It’s just that those are greens that are kind of on their way to yellows-”

“I’m whatever shade of green that means _fuck me, David_ ,” Patrick says and David feels his face crack into a full smile. Patrick’s ears still go pink when he says something like that. It’s ridiculous and adorable.

Without further ado, David takes himself in hand and presses against Patrick’s entrance. He leans down and kisses him as he pushes in slowly, feeling Patrick’s mouth go slack and his breathing come faster against his lips. Before David can ask if he’s okay, Patrick wraps his legs around him, pulling him in impossibly closer, sighing David's name reverently as he takes him deep inside. His hands remain palms-up on the bed by either side of his head, but it feels wrong for them not to touch right now, so David reaches up and laces the fingers of one hand with Patrick’s.

“ _Yes_ ,” Patrick groans as David presses their joined hands the pillow, bracing his other hand on the bed so he can lean down and kiss Patrick again as he continues to move in him, slowly and carefully, until he has to duck his head against Patrick’s shoulder to catch his breath.

“You feel so good,” he sighs, kissing the side of Patrick’s neck.

“You too.” He turns his face to drop a kiss somewhere in David’s hair. “Can you, um… I can take more if you…”

David sits back up, taking his hand back from Patrick’s so he can brace himself better against the bed and get more leverage. He gives Patrick one more quick kiss, then thrusts hard into him, just once. Patrick groans and nods, so David does it again, a few times in quicker succession. Patrick is panting, gripping his pillow hard, his eyes unfocused.

“Please, keep going, keep-”

So David does, getting lost in the heat of Patrick’s body, and the sound of his deep, satisfied moans.

“David, I-” Patrick tries, the thought lost in another groan, his heels digging into David’s back.

“Come on, tell me what you want,” David says, mouthing along his jawline.

“ _God, David_ , hold me down.”

David groans and reaches for one of his wrists, but Patrick shakes his head.

“Like this. Please.”

Patrick moves David’s hand to his throat, tilting his head back. David’s hips stutter and he allows the contact, too far gone to enforce the no-touching rule.

“Are you sure?”

Patrick nods. “Not hard, just-”

“No, definitely not hard,” David says, shifting so he can comfortably put more weight on the hand he has braced on the bed, then adjusting his hand to wrap more fully, but still gently. Patrick keeps his hand on David’s wrist, ensuring he keeps some control, which David is grateful for. “How’s that?”

“Good,” Patrick says, moaning when David starts rocking into him again. “Good, David, oh god _yes_ …”

“Don't come,” David warns. “Didn't say you could yet.”

“I know, I know, _fuck_ …” His mouth falls open but he goes quiet, eyes squeezed shut. He takes it like that for a few moments, then his eyes snap open and he gasps. “Oh stop, _stop, close_ …”

David halts his movements and watches in awe as Patrick’s chest heaves as he tries to calm himself. He should give him more time to wind down, but he’s intrigued by the prospect of Patrick coming without a hand on his cock. So he starts moving again, too soon, and Patrick gives himself over to it, eyes drifting closed again. He's so gorgeous like this, and David thinks he'd be happy to do this for a very long time. 

Carefully, without increasing the pressure on Patrick’s throat too much, David moves the hand he had braced on the bed and uses it to hitch one of Patrick’s legs up higher, grinding into him slow but hard. Patrick gets loud, crying out with every snap of David’s hips. David doesn’t have a free hand to quiet him, but he doesn’t really want to anyway, so he just has to hope no one checked into the room next to them tonight.

Suddenly, Patrick falters, letting out a reedy sound, his eyes blinking open at the ceiling. His hand tightens on David’s wrist and he gasps weakly, “Oh… n-no…”

What he’s saying doesn’t register immediately, but then David doesn’t have time to panic about what he needs to stop doing, because Patrick’s eyes roll back and he cries out, clenching around David as he comes hard, messily, and clearly unexpectedly. His legs tighten around David, holding him close as he rides it out, and David has to pull his hand free from where Patrick is holding it to his neck so he can brace himself with both hands on the mattress, trying not to lose it right along with him.

“I’m sorry,” Patrick gasps as soon as he can manage words. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I tried-”

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay. You don’t have to be sorry. You did so good.”

“But I-” Patrick starts, but then David kisses him, smiling into it when even now, Patrick is keeping his hands to himself. Perhaps a compromise is in order.

David waits until Patrick’s breathing has evened out a bit and the vice-grip of his legs has relaxed to pull out carefully, disposing of the condom.

“You wanna get me off?”

Patrick looks up at him hopefully and nods.

“Then come on, up.”

David rolls aside so Patrick can get up. He sits on the bed with his legs hanging off the side, and tugs Patrick down so that he’s on his knees in front of him.

“Go on,” David says, smiling gently even as he adds, “before I change my mind.”

Patrick places his hands on David’s thighs, looking up at him as if to make sure he’s actually allowed. David nods and Patrick slides one hand up the grasp David’s cock. He guides it into his mouth, humming contentedly the second it hits his tongue.

All of Patrick’s usual enthusiasm is there, but there’s a looseness to him now as he bobs his head, looking up at David with his big brown eyes. David cradles the back of his head, and Patrick doesn’t wait for him to push, taking him deeper of his own accord. David closes his eyes and tips his head back, but quickly forces himself to look back down at Patrick.

“That’s so good, just like that, yeah, _fuck_ …”

Patrick moans encouragingly around him, using his hand and mouth in perfect rhythm, and David almost hates to do this, but…

He pulls free of Patrick’s mouth and grip, picking up where he left off with his own hand while Patrick looks up at him dazedly.

“That’s all you get,” David pants. “Maybe next time you’ll- _oh fuck_ …”

Any hopes of maintaining a commanding demeanor are out the door, his hand flying over his cock, slick with Patrick’s spit. When he manages to meet Patrick’s gaze one last time, Patrick’s head is bowed slightly and he’s looking up at David, clearly attempting to assume a submissive position. However, there’s a tiny smile pulling at the corner of his mouth and a look of victory in his eyes, a look of knowing he’s the cause of David’s slipping control and, _god_ , David loves him.

He doesn’t have time to unpack that thought before he’s gripping the bedspread with his free hand and coming over his hand and onto his stomach, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut. He feels Patrick’s grip on his thighs flex and he squeezes his cock reflexively through the aftershocks, shuddering and letting the moans and gasps continue to spill from his lips.

It's only when David's hand stills and goes slack on himself that Patrick slumps, resting his head on David's thigh.

“You okay?” David asks, unclenching the hand fisted in the bedspread to pet at the back of Patrick’s head. Patrick only nods, so David tilts his head up by his chin to look at him. “Hey, are you-”

“I’m good,” he assures him with a lazy smile.

David smiles back and for a moment they just look at each other, content and hazy, until suddenly Patrick is up and collapsing on top of David awkwardly, kissing him sweetly as best he can while David can’t stop grinning. He keeps his messy hand out of the way, his arm flung back onto the bed. There’s nothing to be done about the collective mess between them though, so David goes ahead and wraps his other arm around Patrick’s back, holding him tight.

Kisses turn to nuzzling and then Patrick buries his face in the side of David’s neck, sighing deeply. David knows that sound.

“Hey, no, no falling asleep,” he says, rubbing Patrick’s back. “We’re going to get stuck like this if we don’t get up, come on.” He pushes up, Patrick’s face staying where it is, but his feet finding the floor. “Come on baby, let’s go.”

 _Then_ Patrick pulls back to look at David, glee in his eyes.

“Did you just call me ‘baby’?”

David stands and turns Patrick, walking him toward the bathroom.

“I don’t recall.”

“Just now. You’re the one who said no nicknames and yet-”

“Fine, won’t happen again.”

Patrick stops in the doorway of the bathroom and turns to face David.

“What if I liked it?”

“Well I think the general theme of all of this has been that I give you things you like when you’re good, so if you could be a dear and…”

David waves a hand, encouraging him into the bathroom. Patrick rolls his eyes but he looks so happy, David considers revisiting the no in-bed nicknames rule.

\---

Though David only goes through an abridged version of his nightly routine, Patrick is snuggled into bed, lying on his side and dozing by the time he’s done. He turns out the light and climbs in with him, lying on his side to face him. When he runs a hand up Patrick’s arm, Patrick doesn’t open his eyes, but he smiles.

“Can I ask where that came from?” David asks softly.

“Hmm?”

David slides his hand up and around from Patrick’s shoulder to his neck, resting lightly over his throat. Patrick sighs and smiles.

“That day on the couch at the store. You tilted my head back to kiss me by putting your hand there.” He shrugs. “I liked it.”

David smiles, moving his hand back down. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Mhm,” Patrick sighs sleepily.

 _I love him_ , David thinks again. Even in his head, he’s not saying it _to_ Patrick yet, but he knows it’s true. Tonight wasn’t the first time he’d thought it. The first time had been on open mic night, when what David was sure was a top-ten relationship nightmare ended up being the most beautiful, romantic thing he’d ever experienced. Patrick sang to him, and it unlocked something bright and new.

David had been sure it was going to take time to feel that again, even when he reached the point where he knew they’d end up back together. But it took no time at all, and David wonders cautiously if that means this time, it’s the real deal.

He leans forward and kisses Patrick, who snuffles and tries to return the kiss belatedly. David rolls over on his other side, afraid that Patrick will open his eyes and be able to read too much on his face. Behind him, Patrick shifts closer, wrapping his arm around David and kissing him on the shoulder.

“This okay?” Patrick slurs sleepily.

“Yeah,” David whispers, pressing his smile into his pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the thing I didn't consider when I set out to do this was the fact that my tendency to write really talk-y sex PLUS the whole orgasm delay thing was going to make for a loooong sex scene. Quite the writing exercise. Thanks for reading all that. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This last chapter is just a short little coda-type thing.

The first time they wake up, it’s in a similar manner as their first morning back together, with Patrick peppering his jaw, neck, and shoulder with gentle kisses, and petting at his chest. This time, David hauls him on top of him, kissing him lazily as they rock against each other. Eventually, Patrick gets a hand between them and wraps it around David’s cock, and it takes David a full minute to focus enough to follow suit. When he’s close, panting against Patrick’s lips, Patrick reaches up with his free hand, slides his fingers into David’s hair and gives it a firm tug. David gasps and comes between them, unable to hide his smile at Patrick knowing just what to give him. Patrick bites down gently on David’s shoulder as he comes, and as they come back down together, David can feel him smiling too.

The second time they wake up and actually get out of bed, they find that they’re short a bath towel. David attempts to sneak over to the motel office and nearly has a heart attack when he finds his dad already there, behind the desk.

“Morning, son! I didn’t hear you come home last night. Thought you were at Patrick’s.”

“No, nope, I was here. In my own room. All night. Anyway, I just need a towel, so-”

“Speaking of Patrick,” Johnny says, halting David and making him grimace. “Do you know if he knows anything about soundproofing?”

“Why, why would Patrick know about soundproofing? Why do _you_ need to know about soundproofing?”

“Well I know Patrick is a musician, and I just figured if he’d spent time in a studio of any kind he might know a thing or two. Anyway, it was just a thought. One of our guests had a very good time last night, if you know what I mean.”

David’s eyes go wide. “Um, no what uh… what are you talking about?”

“Well yesterday, Stevie checked in a Miss…” Johnny looks at the computer, “Anastasia Steele…”

“Oh my god,” David whispers to himself.

“But it wasn’t Miss Steele I heard last night when I came in to find a sewing kit. No, the voice was definitely male, so she must have had a companion-”

The door to the office opens and Patrick comes in before David can do anything to warn him.

“David I found extra- oh.” Patrick crosses his arms, as if he’s scantily clad in the untucked white t-shirt and un-belted jeans he’s wearing. “Good morning, Mr. Rose.”

“Oh good morning Patrick! I was just asking David here if you knew anything about soundproofing-”

“He doesn’t and we need to go,” David says, turning to usher Patrick out of the office.

“Well hold on, you said you needed a towel, let me grab that for you.”

“Why is he asking about soundproofing?” Patrick whispers as Johnny disappears into the back.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” David says, but by the look that comes over Patrick’s face, he’s catching up to what’s happened.

“David. Why is your dad asking about soundproofing?”

Johnny returns and David quickly accepts the towel and gets himself and Patrick out of the office. He’s careful to close the door all the way before heading toward their room so that his dad doesn’t see them going the wrong way. They only make it a few steps before a door opens behind them. It’s not the office door though - it’s the Roses’ room. First David had to face his dad, and now…

“Well hello, boys,” Moira says, leaning out of the room in her pajamas-and-vest-with-brooch combo.

“Morning, Mrs. Rose,” Patrick manages to get out, ever the gentleman, while David just prays the ground will open up and swallow him whole.

“Guess we know who our small town Monsieur Grey was last night,” Moira says, the wink evident in her voice.

“ _Mom_.”

“Could be worse, David. You’re lucky your father didn’t understand the literary reference.”

“Do I want to know?” Patrick asks weakly.

“Nope, absolutely not,” David says, turning them once more toward their room.

“It’s good to see you two reunited,” Moira calls after them.

There’s a noticeable evenness, a sincerity in his mother’s voice that makes David look back. When he sees that sincerity in her expression too, he smiles, mouthing _thank you_ to her. She blows him a kiss before retreating into her room, leaving David and Patrick to scurry back into their own not-so-private-after-all room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! That's all for this one. Thank you so much for reading! ❤️


End file.
